


Beat the Heat (Not the Meat)

by keerawa



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4393121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/pseuds/keerawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's sexual regimen may require some modification, in light of today's experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beat the Heat (Not the Meat)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/profile)[watsons_woes](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/) JWP Prompt 2015 #21: Heat Rash. Seat during season 1 of Elementary. Unbeta'd.

Sherlock was spread-eagled, the sweat pooling on his body. He was lying in the proverbial wet patch, but as the entire surface of his bed fit that description, and he found himself temporarily incapable of movement, it was unavoidable. He heard the noise of the front door opening, and the distinctive metallic clink of keys landing on the sideboard.

"Watson," he yelled.

"What is it, Sherl-" Watson stepped into the room and recoiled. "You're naked," she complained from just outside the room, "and it smells like a Thai brothel in here."

Sherlock wondered if that was a local idiom; Watson had never exhibited any of the signs of travel to the Far East. He reached out a hand and feebly dragged the sheet over his groin.

"I'm decent," he called out.

Watson made a soft noise, as if doubting such a thing were possible. She stepped back into the doorway, mouth set in a delicate moue of distaste.

"A young woman of my acquaintance issued a challenge," Sherlock explained. "She claimed that she could bring me to orgasm more times in a four hour period than I could 'return the favor'. I told her that, given the physiological differences between the male and female body, such a thing was impossible."

"And … was it?" Watson asked reluctantly.

"I'm not entirely certain. I think it was a tie. Her technique was impressive, but I wouldn't recommend it, given the after-effects. Watson, I do believe the American media has entered into a conspiracy of silence with regards to the tropical nature of the summer in New York."

"I think they mostly spend July and August in the Berkshires," she explained, and walked away.

"Watson? Watson! I realize this may be beyond the requirements of your position as sober companion, but surely your Hippocratic oath would apply," he pleaded.

"I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science," she recited loudly from the kitchen, "and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug."

Watson reappeared in Sherlock's bedroom with a large glass of water, a damp flannel, and a blue plastic tube. "So, I'll just recommend that you avoid strenuous activity during the hottest days of the summer, and leave it at that. Here, have an Otter Pop," she said, tossing the shockingly cold blue thing onto his stomach.

"'Otter Pop'?" Sherlock enunciated carefully, picking it up and inspecting it.

Watson was at his side, skillfully helping him to sit up and positioning a pillow behind him. "Sip the water slowly," she instructed as she handed him the glass, and waited until he obeyed her before continuing. "They're basically Popsicles, frozen flavored sugar water. They're how we survived the summer, growing up. We've got some orange Gatorade in the fridge, but if you're anything like me, drinking it right now would upset your stomach."

Sherlock nibbled at the blue ice stick that slipped from its clear plastic sheath, grimacing at the harsh, chemical sweetness. "What flavor is this?"

"Blue," she said, uncompromisingly, and as he was in vulnerable state, Sherlock did not argue. "Finish the Otter Pop and the water. If you can stand after that, I'll walk you into the kitchen and you can drink the Gatorade. By then you should be able to take a cold shower, and you'll be fine."

"I bow to your expertise," Sherlock said.

Watson scoffed, but her hands were gentle as she stroked his over-heated flesh with the cool, damp cloth. Sherlock found it was surprisingly pleasant, to be so cosseted after the day's exertions, and wondered if perhaps his sexual regimen should be modified to include some aspect of after-care.


End file.
